


To Do A Weasley

by AnnaFugazzi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaFugazzi/pseuds/AnnaFugazzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing was turning out the way it was supposed to turn out - not the Order, not Seventh Year... nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a _ridiculously_ belated story written for daf9, who asked for George/Lee or Fred/George way back in January. The rest is written but requires heavy editing. _Please_ let me know if you spot anything off, as I’ve been unable to find a beta and no matter how many times I re-read, nothing beats a second pair of eyes.
> 
> And if you’d like to beta, I will love you forever and ever.

**1.**

**August 8**

“This isn’t what I thought we were getting into,” George finally admitted one morning as they lay in their beds thinking of everything planned for them today.

“With the Order?” asked Fred.

“Any of it,” said George.

This place was horrible. It was dark, and miserable, and gloomy and boring, and there was no Lee.

They thought they’d known, hadn’t they? They’d known that fighting You-Know-Who wouldn’t be all sunshine and daisies. When they’d been told they were going to go live for the summer in former Death Eater Central, Fred and George had braced themselves for danger and terror.

But somehow George had expected it to be more exciting and less squalid. The most exciting thing they’d done was _clean_.

Bollocks.

“Fred! George!” Mum was yelling downstairs. George and Fred exchanged a look, silently debated the anger in her voice and decided whether she’d be more put out at having to yell at them more than once versus having them Apparate in front of her.

They should just walk downstairs, thought George.

Not bloody likely, said Fred’s grin.

They Apparated downstairs.

“For Heaven’s SAKE!” Mum shouted, dropping her bowl of porridge into the sink with a clatter. “You _don’t_ need to do that every time!”

“Sorry, Mum,” said Fred breezily. “Didn’t want to make you wait. Got a big day ahead.”

“Here!” she slapped a small scroll at Fred’s chest. “And tell your friends they are _not_ to keep sending owls! This is supposed to be a _secret_ Order safehouse!”

George glimpsed Lee’s owl flying out the door, and his heart gave a small thump. “Lee!” He snatched the letter from Fred, who flailed his arm out to get it back and then chased him as he headed out the door.

“Go easy on them, Molly, they’re bored silly, cooped up here,” Sirius was saying as they raced up the stairs. George and Fred shared a grin as they ran into their room and flopped onto Fred’s bed, unscrolling Lee’s letter and reading it together.

 _You’re a couple of miserable arses,_ Lee’s letter began, and George felt a warm glow at the familiar looping script. _Leaving your best friend behind. We were going to have a great time this summer, remember? You were going to come and visit me?_

“We were, too,” George noted. “Would’ve been brilliant. We were going to sneak into the Leaky and the Weird Sisters concert.”

“Instead we’re listening to Sirius’s batty mum and that horrid little monster calling us unnatural,” Fred agreed.

 _I don’t mind so much that you two disappeared,_ Lee’s letter continued. I figure it’s got to do with the stuff we talked about last year. But you couldn’t let me in on any of it? My mum and dad are right dull. They keep going on about me getting serious about Potions and wanting me to be a bloody Prefect...

“It would be brilliant if he was a Prefect,” Fred remarked. “Told him he should’ve tried at least. Can you imagine, Lee with the power to take points off Slytherin? Sneak us off the school grounds at night? Get us into the Prefects’ bathroom?”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” George agreed.

 _So I’ve been chatting up this Muggle girl at the local tea shop,_ Lee wrote, and George’s stomach tightened uncomfortably. Beside him, Fred cleared his throat. _I think I was getting somewhere but then she told me her whole family fund-raised for the Labour party and I told her I voted Narcissist. I dunno what happened..._

George and Fred laughed. “I swear he’s never going to get a leg over in his entire life,” said Fred, chuckling fondly.

They continued reading, snickering as Lee wrote increasingly impossible anecdotes about his mother’s magical explosions business -- and how she somehow managed to make explosions dull -- and his attempts to learn radio spells, and about his sister’s boyfriend, whose spots were beginning to take on personalities of their own, and...

 _Write me, mates_ Lee implored at the bottom of the letter. _It’s barely six weeks between school terms but feels like forever, I swear. Write me._

“Can’t wait for school,” George said. “It’s going to be brilliant.”

“Yeah, not like this bloody depressing hellpit.”

“Never thought I’d miss mucking out our old chicken coop,” said George. _Never thought I’d miss our best friend quite so much either,_ he thought but didn’t say. He got out a quill and piece of parchment.

“What are you doing?” said Fred. “Mum’s expecting us to tackle half the third floor today. Especially now Harry’s here.”

“You heard her,” said George. “Our friends aren’t taking the secrecy of Order headquarters seriously. We have to explain it to them.”

Fred grinned. “Yeah, fair enough.” He flopped down on George’s bed and took out his wand, lazily making patterns of sparkling colour on the ceiling. “Explain away, then, oh responsible one.”

_Dear Lee:_

_Our friend arrived. He’s in a marvelous mood. Very easygoing, quiet, serene. We’re all having a wonderful time. Too bad we’re so busy. Mostly developing new products for our ongoing project. You’re going to love what we’re doing with nougats, though we’re quickly discovering that the charms we learned for cleaning cloth don’t do nearly as good a job as we need when it comes to blood._

He paused, glancing over at Fred.

_We miss you, mate. It’s not the same without our third wheel._

**2.**

**September 1**

“Who the bloody hell is that?” asked Fred slowly. George didn’t care. He’d just caught sight of Lee entering the Great Hall, talking with Angelina and making expansive gestures, making her throw her head back and laugh, and he swallowed.

Lee liked her. _Really_ liked her. As more than a friend. He’d been flirting with her since first year.

George shook himself impatiently. It didn’t mean anything. Fred had asked her to the Ball last year, and - well they hadn’t spoken to her, of course, over the summer, and hadn’t had any owls from her, but still, Angelina and Fred had gone to the Ball together and that meant something, didn’t it?

“George, pay attention,” hissed Fred, poking him, and George realized he’d been talking in a low voice for a while now and George had completely not noticed.

“Yes, Mum,” George muttered, turning toward his twin as Lee and Angelina settled onto the bench next to them. “Why?”

“That’s got to be the Defence professor,” Fred murmured. “She’s... she’s disturbing.”

“Seems all right to me,” said George, looking her over. Unattractively toadlike, and with a bizarrely girlish look to her, all pink and with a bow in her hair, but he saw nothing disturbing about her. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Look at McGonagall. And Sprout. They’re almost crawling away from her in their seats.”

“So?”

Then Dumbledore welcomed them to school again and made bade them tuck in, in lieu of a speech - there was a reason he and Fred loved the barmy old bat - and it was all right again.

Lee was full of stories from his summer, even funnier than his letters, and full of righteous anger at them not telling him a bloody thing about how they’d spent their own hols.

“We would’ve mate, we swear,” Fred protested at one point, and Lee flicked his wand and made Fred’s nose elongate. Fred, not to be outdone, made Lee’s dreadlocks rise from his head and wave gently in the air above him. One of them wound its way towards George.

He batted it away. “And what else did you do?” he asked. “Besides work for you Mum’s shop and drive her spare?”

“It was a good summer in many ways,” said Lee mysteriously, his dark eyes sparkling and a small smile playing about his lips.

“You _did_ finally meet that girl!” Angelina crowed. “The one you wrote me about! Did you?”

“You wrote to my girl?” Fred asked Lee in mock hurt.

“Can’t be your girl if you don’t write to her,” said Angelina tartly, and Alicia snickered.

“You wound me,” said Fred. “You wound me grievously. What was in my heart was too deep for parchment.”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“Fickle woman,” said Fred dramatically.

“Fickle?” Angelina’ dark eyes snapped with anger - and amusement. “Lee here spends most of an hour whinging about you not telling him what you were doing and you grovel to him. I make _one_ comment and I’m a fickle woman? You didn’t ask Lee out to the Ball, did you?”

“He was George’s date,” said Fred. His eyes brightened. “Ergo, _George_ is the one who mucked up, not me. I’ve just been a supportive twin, this whole time, and got not one bit of appreciation from either of you ungrateful sods.”

Lee rolled his eyes and turned his back on Fred. “I did not get my leg over with that particular female,” he admitted to Angelina. “It was an illuminating summer nevertheless.”

“In what way?” asked Fred.

“Not bloody telling you, mate. Turnabout is fair play.”

“We _couldn’t_ tell you,” Fred repeated patiently.

“Maybe if you get yourself back in my good graces I’ll tell you,” said Lee haughtily. “But it’ll require a lot of groveling.”

Finally dinner was done and they were all feeling a lot lazier and fuller. Dumbledore got up and began, speaking briefly about Forbidden this and Banned that, and George paid no more attention than he ever did - until the new teacher got up to speak.

What the...

“Does she think we’re all infants?” muttered George.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!” she chirped.

“You are, are you?” muttered Lee.

The she started to talk in earnest, dropping the chirpy tone and replacing it with something distinctly Percy-like. They all glanced at each other as she droned on.

“A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change...”

“What a twit,” said Angelina.

“She’s not,” said Fred.

George snickered. “Really? Are you hearing the same twaddle I’m hearing?”

Fred shook his head, looking decidedly unamused. “She’s not a twit. A fanatic, is what she is. Lot more dangerous than she looks.”

George shrugged and didn’t argue. Fred had been getting more moody and occasionally gloomy over the last little while. More serious, more driven - and sometimes, less likely to be on the same page as George. They’d had a serious disagreement over their Quidditch Cup bet with Ludo Bagman last year, and George was still somewhat shaken over it. He had no desire to go there again.

He listened to Umbridge with half an ear, not particularly seeing what had Fred so disturbed. He glanced at Lee and Angelina, who also seemed to have completely turned off.

Though it was strange, he thought as they went back to their common room, that Hermione apparently seemed to think the same way as Fred.

“We’re going to have to watch ourselves, that’s all I’m saying,” she was saying to Ron as they finished shepherding a gaggle of tiny children toward the first-year dormitories.

“She’s just a professor. Ten to one she doesn’t even last the year.”

“Harry said she worked for Fudge. And didn’t you notice how the other teachers were looking at her?”

“Dumbledore can take her,” Ron said confidently. “If he could handle Grindenwald and You-Know-Who, he can handle the pink toad.”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed, glancing around the common room, relieved that only Fred and George seemed to be paying attention. Fred gave her a grim nod and signalled to George and Lee to head to the bathrooms, and they got ready for bed without the usual boisterous hilarity that usually accompanied anything the three of them did together. Somehow, with Fred so dour, it was hard to muster up the required level of humour.

“This is crap, mate,” said Fred hollowly as they headed to their dormitory, leaving Lee at the bathrooms.

“Well, Hermione agrees with you,” George noted. “Good on you, mate.”

“It’s not that funny,” said Fred, taking off his jumper and pulling on his pajamas.

“I know,” George said, stripping off his own pants. “What can we do, though?”

“Not sure,” said Fred. “I just know that this is... school isn’t going to be what we thought it would be, this year. Umbridge is a loon, there’s lots going on...”

Lee entered the room, a towel slung over his shoulders, and stopped by Fred and George’s beds, glancing around the dormitory.

“What is it?” asked George.

“Don’t say too much,” Lee said softly.

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean, whatever you weren’t telling me about about this summer... don’t tell me yet. Not here.” He gave a significant look at the last two beds in the room, belonging to Kenneth Towler and Garett Hung.

George glanced over at the beds too, mystified. “Why not?”

“Because you’ve been in deep with the good guys all summer,” said Lee. “You haven’t seen what’s going on outside of your bubble. It’s not all sunshine and daisies.”

“It wasn’t all sunshine and daisies where we were either--” Fred began, and Lee shushed him.

“All right, now _you’re_ being dramatic,” George teased him. “What’s with the two of you? I was looking forward to coming back here; you’re making me miss that blasted old elf with his mutterings--”

“-good thing they’ve got _somebody_ here with some sense,” Kenneth was saying as he pushed the door open and entered the room, chatting with Garett.

“I don’t know...” said Garett slowly.

“Oh come on,” said Kenneth. “This is our education we’re talking about.”

“You’ve never been that concerned with it before.”

“Maybe I should’ve been,” said Kenneth. “We’re going to look for jobs at the end of the year. D’you want to know what you’re talking about and have a chance at employment, or do you want to be loyal to some barmy, delusional--”

“Beg pardon?” said Fred, rounding on Kenneth. Kenneth blinked and Garett pressed his lips together. “Who’s delusional?”

Kenneth and Garett exchanged a glance, and then Kenneth lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes, putting his hands on his hips and giving Fred a long, measuring gaze.

And George had a distinct memory of him doing the exact same thing in first year, when he and Fred had charmed his trousers to squeeze his bits, and the same thing in second year, when they Transfigured his nose into a trapeze, and in third year when they put Stinkpus in his shoes--

This didn’t look like that.

“Listen, Weasley,” he began, and flicked his gaze at George. “Both of you.” He paused, carefully thinking over his next words.

Kenneth had always been a pretty good sport everything they’d done, before. Occasionally impatient with them, sometimes giving them mock-stern lectures - especially after the Bulbadox powder in pajamas incident - but eventually amused. And Garett was usually on their side. Not that it mattered; he, Fred and Lee were the acknowledged leaders - especially now that they were seventh-years - and Kenneth and Garett were lucky to live with them.

This felt different.

“I was just saying that I’m glad there’s somebody with some sense on the staff,” said Kenneth, as if making an important pronouncement.

“As opposed to who?” said Fred.

“Dumbledore,” said Kenneth, and Garett blew out his breath softly, but moved to stand slightly behind Kenneth, giving him silent support. “And I’ll tell you something else: I’m glad there’s somebody on staff who sees that kid you’re so fond of for what he is.”

“What kid?” asked Fred, his voice hard.

“You know who I’m talking about. The one your family’s all but adopted.”

“You have something to say about our friend?” asked Lee icily.

Kenneth pressed his lips together. “All right, mate, never mind,” he said, his tone abruptly conciliatory. “Let’s not get in a fight on our first day back. You three like the kid, and - who knows, maybe he believes what he’s saying. He’s always seemed harmless enough.” Though they’d had words over him in third year, when Harry and Ron and Hermione had cost the House more points than even Fred and George had ever dreamed possible, and in fourth year, when Harry had been suspected of being the Heir of Slytherin, and last year, when they’d thought he put his name into the Goblet. Kenneth shrugged. “You’ve always defended him, boys--”

“And we’ve been right to, haven’t we?” said Lee.

Kenneth reluctantly nodded. “Except for last year. Maybe he finally cracked under the pressure.”

“No,” snapped Fred. “He didn’t.” George deliberately didn’t look at Fred. Harry had hardly been an example of calm steadiness this summer...

“Let’s all just agree to disagree, all right?” asked Garett. “We won’t badmouth him in our dormitory. You can say whatever you want.” He turned decisively to his bed and got in, drawing the curtains around himself. Kenneth did the same, visibly unsettled.

Fred gazed at Lee quietly as the second set of curtains closed. He got into bed silently, turning onto his side.

What the hell had just happened? An abortive half-argument, a few sentences - but it suddenly felt to George like a wide gap had just yawned open in the middle of their dormitory room.

He got into bed silently and turned over, deliberately calming his thoughts. He and Fred were Beaters. Lee was the Quidditch announcer. They were popular, they were admired. They were leaders. The other two were rubbish who were lucky to live with them. Right?

George suddenly wondered how Harry and Ron were doing in their own dormitory. Ronnie was a Prefect now, which was good - though nauseating - but... how were they doing? What did the rest of their year think of them this year?

**3.**

**September 25**

This is bollocks, George thought a few weeks later as he stirred the Exploding Earwax solution and waited for Fred to come back to the dormitory. This was worse than Grimmauld Place.

He added Snotweed and glanced over at Lee, quietly preparing for a NEWT Charms presentation on his bed. They’d all looked forward to coming back to school. School meant fun and lessons -- which they were actually quite good at, thank you very much -- and teachers who now knew them and loved them.

With the glaring exception of Snape, they got along with everyone. Sprout tolerated their antics because they’d helped her rebuild her entire Greenhouse #4 after the Gurdyroot explosion killed it and even though she’d discovered it was because they wanted Toejam flowers for potions they were planning, she still appreciated them. Flitwick was always coming up with wicked -- and often slightly dangerous -- charms for them to work with outside of class. His murmured, “Thought you might like to look at this,” after class was often like Christmas come early, and had directly resulted in Canary Creams, Belching Breath Mints and Farting Frisbees. McGonagall loved their work as Beaters and had over the years learned to take the thousands of House points they’d cost her in stride. Hagrid was brilliant. Trelawney didn’t matter; they’d never taken her classes anyway.

But this year...

It was like living in a dungeon, he thought, and added in some Skunk Lily. And not the fun kind that they’d read about in those Naughty Witch magazines that Lee had started smuggling in for them in second year.

Everyone was gloomy. The professors walked around grim and taciturn. Fred had been right, damn him, that the kitten-obsessed pink monstrosity was taking over everything, and she had nobody’s good time in mind.

And Harry was being hounded. Treated like a criminal when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

The only good parts of school this year were Quidditch, Lee and Angelina. And even there...

Well all right, Quidditch was fine. After a rough start the team was doing well, and it wasn’t like Umbridge had any control over what happened on the pitch, thank Merlin.

Lee and Angelina, on the other hand...

George carefully waved his wand over his solution counterclockwise and glanced over at Lee, now absently doodling in the margin of his parchment as he recited music spells under his breath. He really couldn’t deny where his feelings were going with regards to Lee, and it was confusing and annoying and a little bit terrifying. He’d ignored it and dismissed it and minimized it all since last year, but it was probably far past time for him to admit it to himself.

Later.

Also, Fred and Angelina were no more.

“It’s not right, I’m your Captain” she’d told Fred.

Lee had paused very briefly when Fred had told them, asked “You all right about that?” and the moment Fred had gamely replied, “Course I am - plenty of other fish in the sea, right?” Lee’d shot back, “So it’s not _wrong_ if I ask her out again, right?”

Fred had laughed and aimed a punch in Lee’s direction, calling him an insensitive wanker. It was all right, though; they all knew that if Lee had treated the break-up as serious, that would’ve made it serious, and Fred didn’t want it to be. In fact, he was out with Angelina right now, helping her study for Herbology as just friends, just to prove that he didn’t give a toss about dating her.

But George hadn’t liked Lee’s reaction one bit. And it wasn’t because Lee was being flippant about Fred and Angelina not lasting.

It was because Lee would never date Angelina, but he would date somebody, some day. Maybe Katie. Maybe Alicia. Maybe some girl in another house. And George...

All right, time to get off the pathetic train. He was a big boy, he could admit it:

He was all sorts of smitten. With his best friend. There.

And it didn’t matter, he thought as he stirred the potion some more, releasing a mildly vomit-scented vapour, and Lee’s nose scrunched a bit. Didn’t matter that he was always acutely aware of Lee’s presence, whether they were interacting or not. Just made things a little weird, that was all. It was a phase. After all, Fred had had a thing for Angelina, and now they were back to normal. That was all it was, nothing to concern anybody.

And loads of boys got weird about other boys; Steve Bennings and Alec Fletcher had been caught rubbing against each other in the third floor bathroom last year and Alec was dating a Ravenclaw girl a month later. Old biddies like Umbridge would probably go sideways at the idea, and Mum and Dad would be all funny and concerned if any of their boys was ever caught doing anything like that, and he had no clue what Fred would think, and it would be horribly awkward, but...

But it didn’t have to be. So he’d admitted it to himself; he didn’t have to do anything else about it. Just push it out of his mind, go on as normal, and concentrate on his studies and on their plans for their own shop.

They’d be out of here soon. They’d have money. Success. A chance to help the Order. Have girls tripping over themselves to date them. No more of this stupid shite with school, bowing to the horrible toad who’d taken over everything...

“George, what the hell is that?” Lee’s irritated voice startled him out of his reverie. “It smells like my grandmother’s bra.”

“Oi, mate, I don’t want to know how you know what your grandmother’s bra smells like,” said George. “It’ll get better. Just need to add Pogrebin root.”

“Pogrebin root. Ugh. That’s like arse and treacle. What the bloody hell are you making?”

“Arse and treacle? That’s oddly specific.” George waved his wand over the solution. “Y’know, you don’t have to smell this.”

“You’re throwing me out of my own dormitory?”

“No, I can do a spell to block your sense of smell.”

“The one you perfected that year that you and Fred decided not to bathe? Knew it had to come in handy eventually.”

George rolled his eyes and waved his wand at Lee, and gave himself permission to gaze at Lee affectionately for a moment after Lee bent his head back over his book.

It didn’t mean anything. Yeah, it was a little distracting sometimes, noticing Lee the way he did, becoming fixated with the way his teeth worried absently at his lower lip as he studied, but it didn’t mean anything. He’d just keep ignoring it, and grow out of it.

He would.

**4.**

**October 5**

“This is bollocks,” said Fred as they walked back from their sham of a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Bloody children’s books with illustrated pictures of vampires. _Badly_ illustrated. The vampires looked bizarrely like poor Cedric Diggory, only slightly sparkly. _Throw garlic at them and call the Aurors_ George had dutifully written on the parchment he’d handed in to Umbridge, having run out of snark after a month of these shite assignments. “It’s all bollocks,” Fred repeated.

“I know--” George began, keeping his tone calm. DADA class drove Fred spare these days. No need to add fuel to the fire. Besides, there was practice tonight, and Lee had smuggled some firewhisky in for after--

“Umbridge is taking over the school,” Fred continued, stalking up to the Gryffindor door. “ _Hippogriff_ ,” he barked, and the Fat Lady silently opened the door. He strode through to the empty common room. “The Ministry has taken over everything, everybody’s scared, everybody thinks Harry’s a liar...”

“I know, I know. It’s bollocks. I agree.”

“But you’re not taking it seriously!” Fred snapped.

George stopped in his tracks. Fred strode ahead a few paces, then stopped and turned when he realized George was no longer beside him.

“Beg pardon?” George asked mildly. Fred blinked at him. “Mate, I’m not the enemy, right?”

Fred flushed. “I didn’t say--”

“Don’t bark at me,” said George firmly.

“You’re more worried about Quidditch and Lee than you are about what’s important,” said Fred.

George froze. “What?”

Fred gazed at him for a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve heard Hermione talking?”

“About what?” asked George, and the door swung open behind them.

“Ah, Lee, we were just talking about you,” said Fred, and George gave him an angry glare. “Did you talk to Hermione?”

“Hermione?” asked George.

“There’s a meeting at the Hog’s Head,” said Lee, dropping down into the couch next to George. “Hermione just told me about it. Keep it hushed, though.”

“About what?” George said, keeping his voice steady.

Lee looked around the common room quickly. “She wants Harry to teach us Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“What? We could fight circles around him,” said George. Fred turned on him, mouth open for a retort. “Look, he’s a great kid, he really is. We all love him. But he’s just a kid.”

“He’s beaten You-Know-Who,” Fred pointed out.

“Luck,” said Lee. Fred raised his eyebrows. “Listen, I like the kid too, and I didn’t want to be rude to Hermione. But he’s just a kid. He’s two years younger than us and he’s a fine flyer but--”

“He won the Triwizard Championship,” said Fred.

“Also luck,” said Lee. “Were you watching what I was watching?.”

“He went up against three older students and beat them,” said Fred.

“It was a game, Fred,” said George.

“Yeah, it was. And he won it. And then he went up against You-Know-Who and--”

“And barely got away,” said Lee.

“But he got away!” said Fred. “He’s gotten away over and over. From You-Know-Who, from Quirrel, from his bloody family, from Barty Crouch - you think it’s all just coincidence?”

George traded a glance with Lee. Fred did have a point. “He’s also had help, every time,” he said.

“So he’ll need help again,” said Fred firmly. “And I’d like to be there when he does.”

A slow smile spread across Lee’s face. “You know what, mate?” He looked over at George and laughed. “I think I do too.”

George felt a grin beginning on his face too. “Doesn’t sound half-bad when you put it like that,” he said.

Lee reached out and squeezed George’s arm, and his heart skipped a beat. He quickly glanced at Fred, who narrowed his eyes.

“So I argue for it and you think it’s ridiculous, but Lee does and all of a sudden it’s a fine plan?” Fred said flatly.

George swallowed. “I know better than to stand against two of you, mate,” he said, still acutely conscious of where Lee’s hand was squeezing his arm. “So. Are we going to this meeting?”

“Bloody right,” said Lee, with a wide grin. “Let’s go. Let’s be part of history.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, this got a little longer than I had expected, as a result of a re-reading of Order of the Phoenix. The rest of it should be up much sooner.

**1.**

**November 2**

Well they were definitely part of history now, thought George bitterly a few weeks later as he tossed over in bed, his thoughts swirling. But not for anything good.

His knuckles still stung. They’d won, they’d bloody _won_ against Slytherin and they should’ve been celebrating the win. They should’ve been celebrating things going their way for once.

Everything had been going better since the DA had started. For weeks, Umbridge’s stupid rules didn’t seem so awful; they were ridiculous, but the members of Dumbledore’s Army were thumbing their noses at her and she didn’t know it. It was exhilarating.

Quidditch had been going well. Except for Ron’s abysmal performance as Keeper, the team was golden.

He was spending more and more time with Lee, and he was at peace with how he felt.

All right, yeah, so he was half gone over his best mate and kept getting distracted by Lee's sense of humour, his presence, and had to work to pretend he didn’t get butterflies every time Lee grinned at him. It was fine.

He’d get over it - though it really didn’t help that Lee had become somewhat more handsy lately. They’d always been physically close - he and Lee hit, shoved and pushed each other a dozen times a day in mock-battles, and leaned on one another or slung an arm over each others' shoulders while studying, walking down the hall, or at the Great Hall. They’d always done that, but it honestly felt like Lee was doing that more this year.

He was probably imagining it.

Everything had been going well. And then today...

He rolled over in bed, gut still churning and bile burning his throat as he thought of that little Malfoy snot with his oh-so-superior voice, the satisfying crunch of hitting the sneer off his pointy little face - and then the horror of Umbridge’s gloating smile as she took away one of the only things that had made life bearable at this blasted school-

“George?”

He started at the soft voice in the dark. “Yeah?” Lee quietly approached his bed and George propped himself up on one elbow. “What?”

“You all right?” asked Lee, his voice low.

“Fine.”

They were silent for a moment.

“This is horrible,” said Lee after a minute. “I’m so sorry, mate.”

“Yeah, me too.” He glanced over at Fred’s cot, where Fred was sleeping open-mouthed and exhausted. “And I’m waiting for him to tell me he’s pissed at me for getting him banned when he didn’t even do anything, but...”

Lee chuckled. “You’ll be waiting a while for that, George. Umbridge was right. He would’ve killed that little snot if the girls hadn’t held him back. Fred knows that better than anybody.”

George smiled.

“I was right proud of you,” said Lee softly. “Both of you. Glad you’re my mates.”

George nodded wearily. Lee reached out. “Your knuckles all right?”

“Yeah. They’re tough.”

“So are you.” Lee was still holding his hand between both of his, and George shifted slightly.

“What is it?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lee said. They fell silent.

“And?” George finally said.

“And I figured you couldn’t either.”

“No.”

Silence again. Actually, the silence was getting uncomfortable.

“Lee?”

Lee cleared his throat. “You know I like Angelina, right?” 

George blinked at the non-sequitur. “Yeah. You’ve been going on about her since our voices broke.”

“Yeah.” Lee paused again, then took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she’d ever said yes to me.”

George snorted. “Not much chance of that, mate. She’s had your number since she got tits.”

Lee gave him a small smile, his expression hard to read in the dark. And he was still holding George’s hand.

“All right, I’m going to hold on to my Gryffindor and just come out with it. George.” His hold on George’s hand tightened slightly, and George winced slightly. “I’m trusting you with this, all right? Because you’re a good friend and I think you won’t go all weird on me if I...” he cleared his throat. “I like boys.”

George blinked at Lee in the dark.

“As in, the way I like girls. Actually.” Lee cleared his throat again. “A lot more than I like girls.”

George took a deep breath, his thoughts reeling.

“I’m getting self-conscious, here,” said Lee. “Not to mention I’m still holding your hand and I’m not sure if I should let go of it in case you get the wrong idea or keep holding on to it in case you want to hit me with it.”

“Why would I want to hit you?” George said dumbly.

“Ah, it speaks.”

George floundered. There was nothing he could say. There was nothing - what was he supposed to say?

“Would you mind saying something?” asked Lee.

“Like what?”

“I just kind of put it all out there and told you something bloody sensitive, mate,” said Lee, annoyed. “I know you and your brother don’t do sensitive, but you also don’t do silent so this is really weirding me out.”

George nodded. “Right. Erm.” Get it in gear, Weasley, he thought to himself. He sounded about as eloquent as Ronnie right now. “Erm. Thanks for, er, telling me. Er, and trusting me.”

“Merlin, I’m sorry I asked you to talk,” said Lee. “Go back to silent support. Or maybe even silent disapproval.”

“Mnot disapproving!” George blurted. “Bloody hell. I just can’t - Merlin, I’m, I can’t just switch on you, you know?”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“You kind of are, mate,” said George. “I’ve thought you were gone on Angelina for so long I kind of don’t know what to think now. Especially--”

All right. He couldn’t do this here. He stood up, still holding Lee’s hand.

“What are you doing?” asked Lee, rising with him.

“It’s been a bloody long day and I’ve been thrown off my broom emotionally speaking about four times so far,” he said brusquely. That amazing Quidditch win. That horrible little Malfoy twat saying nasty things about Mum. The dark joy of beating the snot out of him. The dread of going to Umbridge’s office, the disbelief and horror of their Quidditch ban, and now this. Lee. Confessing--

“It’s been a long, trying day,” he said, mimicking Percy’s prissy tone. “I’d much rather do this in decent privacy. Come along, Jordan.”

Lee's relieved grin easy to see even in the dim darkness. They made their way to the boys’ bathroom and George cast a privacy spell.

“So, what is it?” said Lee with a smirk. “You want to ask me if I have my eye on any fit lads? Want to ask my intentions towards the males in our house? Want to know if I’ve considered dating outside the house and bringing disgrace on us all?”

George huffed a laugh.

“That’s a no?” asked Lee.

“It’s been a really, really long day,” said George. “Really bloody long year.”

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath. “You interested in any one particular bloke?”

Lee blinked at him. “Why?”

“Any reason why you told me? Now?”

Lee’s lips pressed together, and George got the distinct feeling that they were dancing around the same thing. And, well, Lee had been the brave one before...

“Oh bollocks, I’ll just say it. I like boys too.” Lee’s eyebrows shot up. “And I have liked one particular bloke for a while now. But if you’re going to get weird about it I’ll just - I didn’t get weird about you telling me, right?” Lee frowned, and opened his mouth. “And I wouldn’t have even if I wasn’t queer myself,” George rushed on. “So don’t you dare, even if you don’t - because I’ve been fancying you all bloody year and I don’t know if you do but if you don’t then just tell me and we’ll pretend this part of the conversation never happened.”

Lee was staring at him, his mouth open.

“You look like you’ve been Stunned.”

Lee closed his mouth. “Right. Erm.” He sat down on the counter, realizing that he was still holding George’s hand.

“Not what you were expecting?” asked George.

“Erm. No. No, not really. Not at all, to be honest.” George’s stomach turned over at the shaky tone of Lee’s voice. Yeah, that had been a little much to expect. For one moment he’d thought maybe Lee had told him because he knew, because maybe Lee felt the same way, and it would’ve been so simple...

“We’ll forget about that part, then?” he said hollowly, and loosened his grip on Lee.

“No!” Lee clutched his fingers. “No. No, let’s not do that.”

“Why not?”

“I... erm, I fancied Jack Cornfoot.”

“Jack the Ravenclaw?” George said, still lost.

“The Ravenclaw. Who helped pull you and Harry off Malfoy. And... he’s a bit of a twat, to be honest.”

“Who, Malfoy?”

“No, Jack. I mean, Malfoy too, but we already knew that.”

“What?”

“It’s why I told you today. Because I just wanted to let you know that I, erm, that I got into trouble too, today. You know, to commiserate.”

“What?” George blinked, deciding “lost” really didn’t describe how he felt.

“I got really angry at him,” Lee admitted. “At Jack, that is. And I... may have hexed him.”

“Why?”

“He said something snotty to another Ravenclaw. About you. I hexed his mouth.”

George laughed. “What did he say?”

“Called you and Harry deluded little boys with the self-control of a hippogriff,” Lee said, an ugly look on his face.

“And you hexed his mouth?”

“Turned it into a prick.”

George laughed again. Lee smiled back.

And he was still holding George’s hand.

“So I think I’ll probably be in trouble once he’s able to talk again,” Lee explained. “Pomfrey’ll undo the hex and then he might tell her who did it.”

“He saw you do it?”

“Er, he sort of... taught it to me. Not _that_ transformation specifically, but the idea of changing body parts. We were studying for Transfiguration.”

“There’ll be an Educational Decree about it,” said George.

“If he tells.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Lee bit his lip. “He might, er, be too shy. Or protective of his own reputation.”

“Why?”

Lee looked down. “The study session? It was... interesting. We... did more than just study.”

A small surge of jealousy surged through George, and a surge of... anger? Hurt? That Lee hadn’t even told him?

Best mate, supposedly, and he hadn’t told George that he was queer - or that he was doing anything about it?

Not that George had any right to be angry at Lee for withholding anything, considering what he’d been doing since his own attraction to Lee had hit him like a Bludger to the head, but still.

“How much - I mean...” George trailed off. “How long were you and him--”

“Not long. I’d only just told him a few days ago. We only snogged a couple of times.”

“Ah.”

There was a small silence.

“And I doubt we’ll be doing that again.”

“No.”

There was another small silence.

“So I’m all out of crushes.”

“Right.”

This was getting awkward. It was weird, he and Fred were usually so glib and ready with a quip but George was completely out of clever.

Lee blew out his breath. “You’re not really jumping with brilliance here, mate.”

“No.”

“Do I have to spell things out?” said Lee, and George glared at him.

“Yeah, you wanker. Connect the dots for me.”

Lee looked pointedly down at their clasped hands.

Oh.

_Oh._

George swallowed. “You were with Jack Cornfoot until earlier today,” he pointed out.

“I was interested in him, yeah. He’s incredibly fit. I...” Lee cleared his throat. “But I didn’t know him very well. Obviously. He was just the only other boy I knew was the same way I was.”

“And now? I’m the only other one?”

“Yeah, but you’re not... you’re not just some bloke. You’re... you’re _you_.” Lee gave him a crooked grin.

“So... you’re saying you’re... interested back?”

Lee nodded. “It’s a little weird, I’ll give you that,” he admitted, and George laughed, startled. “I mean I didn’t know you were. So I’m having a bit of an adjustment here.”

“How much adjustment do you need?”

“Dunno.” Lee’s eyes raked over him and George felt himself flushing. “Merlin, every time I’ve seen you or Fred blush it’s hysterical.”

George thumped him.

“It is, mate. You’re completely unflappable and then suddenly you turn bright cherry red. With ginger frosting.”

“Of course you would be a wanker about this. I confess that I fancy you and you insult me and make fun of me.”

“It’s _me_ , George. Did you honestly think you’d get anything different?”

“Oi, I didn’t think anything!” George protested. “I was doing fine until you started with the surprise confessions!”

Lee laughed. “Fair enough.”

They stared at each other. Lee cleared his throat. “So. Erm. Do you want to do anything?”

“You mean... with you?”

Lee rolled his eyes. “No, with Jack Cornfoot. Merlin.”

“He insulted me and my friend,” George pointed out. “So, no.”

“This is never going to go anywhere,” Lee declared. “For a bloke who’s supposedly been perving on me for so long, you are pathetic now that you actually have a chance.”

“Maybe I’m playing hard to get.”

Lee rolled his eyes again, and pulled George closer. “I’m going to have to take the initiative, aren’t I?” He leaned closer to George and suddenly George’s heart was pounding and felt lightheaded. “Can I? Or will you get the vapours?”

“No, that’s fine,” said George faintly. “No vapours here.” His eyes dropped down to Lee’s lips. “No vapours at all.”

Lee tilted his head to the side and peered at him quizzically. “D’you want to?”

“What?”

“Snog?”

“What, here?”

Lee blew out his breath in exasperation.

George shook his head. “Erm. All right. Listen, I erm...” He gave Lee’s lips a hesitant look and then realized what he was feeling. Exhileration, yes, but also... “No,” he said faintly. He cleared his throat. “Erm, no, we shouldn’t?”

“Come again?” said Lee.

“This is going too fast.”

“For Merlin’s sake, you and Fred wrote the book on ‘too fast,’ mate. Grab it and fly with it, isn’t that your motto?”

“Can’t.” He squeezed Lee’s hand. “You were snogging some Ravenclaw twat as of this morning, mate. I have standards.”

Lee laughed. “Right. Pull the other one.”

“I’m nervous, all right?” George said, exasperated. “Give me a bit of a break.”

Lee nodded. “All right, look. You’re probably right. But how about we test the waters, just see if it’s doable or too weird?”

George smiled at him, his stomach doing a swoop of joy and excitement even through his nervousness. He pulled Lee closer - Merlin, just like he’d wanted to, for months - had a brief thought about what he’d seen Fred do with Angelina a few times and sent a prayer to the patron saint of snogging, if there was one, before leaning closer and brushing his lips against Lee’s.

“Oh.” Lee’s voice was small and shocked. “Erm.” He pulled George closer and kissed him again, chaste and closed-mouth, and George’s lips tingled.

That’s all right, then, George thought headily as they brought their mouths together again, over and over, their kisses growing firmer. Lee’s lips were soft, slightly chapped, his breath smelled like peppermint, it was all a lot more intense than George had expected and--

Lee made a noise low in his throat and George felt a wave of desire, weakening his knees and making his stomach swoop again. He kissed Lee again, putting a hand to his cheek, then stepped back reluctantly.

Lee blinked at him, slightly dazed.

“That’s all right?” he asked.

“Yeh.”

George grinned. “Not too weird?”

Lee shook his head numbly.

“Right then,” George said, going for cheery and nonchalant. “Let’s go to sleeep, then.”

Lee gaped at him, then burst out laughing. “You. Wanker.”

“I’m serious, mate,” said George. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Better do more than talk,” said Lee ominously, then followed him out of the bathroom and back to their dorm.

**2.**

**December 18**

“Y’know, this is getting a little awkward,” said Lee a few weeks later as they came up for air.

“Awkward how?” murmured George, nibbling a row of kisses down Lee’s neck, pressing against him.

“Stop that, you wanker, I can’t think and talk when you do that,” Lee protested, his head going back against the wall and gently pushing him back with one hand to the chest. They’d been snogging for about ten minutes and it was getting close to the time when they had to back off or risk going too far.

Not that going too far was necessarily a bad thing, but they’d decided some weeks ago that they were going to keep this relatively contained until things were a little more settled. That one time when Lee had come in his pants had been rather embarrassing all around.

“We really _have_ to tell Fred, for one thing,” said Lee, sneaking another kiss.

“I know...” said George. It was weird as hell, hiding this from his twin, but it had just been so new to them both, and the one thing they’d both agreed was that they didn’t want to face Fred until they had themselves slightly more sorted out.

“Soon? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Today’s just... not a good time.”

“George.” Lee put an arm around him and rested his head against George’s, and George was really beginning to get used to this, the easy physical affection between them. Funny how they still kept it all completely casual as before when they were in public. “George, there’s never a good time.”

“I know, mate, that’s why we’re doing it tomorrow. I swear.”

“But we were going to today.”

“I know. But it’s the last DA meeting, we’re all going home tomorrow...”

“It’s just going to keep getting weirder the longer we keep it secret from him,” said Lee. “Doesn’t feel right.”

“There hasn’t been that much to tell him, though,” said George, and chuckled at Lee’s amused eye roll. “I mean, he didn’t tell me everything that was going on with Angelina, did he?”

“This is a little different and you know it,” said Lee. “He’s going to be pissed.”

George nodded. “All right. We’d better go to bed,” he said, and they reluctantly parted, giving each other a once-over. Lee’s lips were slightly reddened, his eyes a little dazed. His clothes were in good order, though. Not that they generally weren’t, but the two of them were careful when it came to not mussing each other too much.

“All right.” They headed in to the dorm room and lay down, and George rolled over, fingers to his lips.

It had been like a heady dream, these last few weeks. After their big mutual confessions, he’d faced Lee with a bit of apprehension in the morning - only to meet his eyes across the room, see them sparkling with excitement and a shadow of nerves, and realize that Lee hadn’t changed his mind. They’d gone into the nearest empty classroom as soon as they could and had a hurried, whispered conversation that had amounted to, “You still want to?” and “Oh Merlin yes” and that had been that. Lee’d had his tongue down George’s throat before George could fully process what was going on.

Quick trips into empty classrooms. Snogging in the bathroom once the other boys were gone to bed, with a quick spell cast on the door to make it stick just long enough for them to straighten themselves out if anybody came looking for them.

Mostly just kissing, holding hands. Quick caresses when nobody could see.

And otherwise, no change in their friendship.

He closed his eyes. Much as he’d fretted over what the hell they were going to say to Fred, now that it was looming tomorrow, he had little to no idea. Not great planners, the two of them. They’d gotten as far as, “Let’s do it in the Forbidden Forest so if he tries to kill us whoever survives will have some place to hide the body.”

What could they say, really?

_So Fred have you noticed that we’ve been late to meet you a few times?_

No...

_Fred, you know how we used to keep no secrets from each other when we were kids and I’m still mightily pissed at you not telling me everything about you and Angelina? Hold onto that guilt for a mo’._

No, no good.

_Oi, Fred, what d’you think of two blokes together?_

_Fred, remember that time we were banned from Quidditch for life?_

_Fred, what’s your take on dating someone who’s dated a Ravenclaw before?_

He settled into his pillow more firmly, no closer to a plan than before. It would work out. It would, somehow. In the morning, when they went to the--

And he blinked his eyes open to somebody shaking his shoulder.

“Mr. Weasley.”

“Wha?”

Fred was sitting up in his bed, Lee and Kenneth and Garett also stirring, as McGonagall shook his shoulder again.

“Mr. Weasley. You and your brother need to get up. I will wake your sister. Please wait for me in the common room.”

George shook his head groggily. What the hell? Wake up Ginny?

He and Fred got up, both letting out grunts of surprise as McGonagall waved her wand and whisked their dressing gowns onto them, then strode out the door without a backward glance. He glanced at Lee as they hurried past on the way to the common room. Lee’s mouth had dropped open and he was gaping at them blurrily.

“What is it?” Fred demanded as McGonagall joined them, a pale-faced Ginny trailing behind her.

“It’s your father, Mr. Weasley,” said McGonagall. “He’s been hurt.”

“What?”

The world slowed down weirdly, George noted. Ginny was staring at McGonagall, her eyes wide and scared, her dressing gown ratty - used to be George’s, Mum had added a bit of ribbon to it to make it girly but it still had the singe marks from where George had been experimenting with Bomb Begonias one late night. What an odd thing to think about as McGonagall unceremoniously pushed them out the door and toward Dumbledore’s office, giving them the basics of the situation.

And then they weren’t even allowed to go see Dad. No, they were all off to Grimmauld Place, waiting with Sirius, and George through Fred was going to go mental at the thought of staying here but Sirius had a point, didn’t he? This was war. They couldn’t just go off and demand to see Dad at the hospital, possibly putting everyone in the Order - including Dad - in more danger. They had to stay here, in this nightmare of a place, just bloody waiting.

Not just a nightmare of a place; a nightmare of a situation. Sitting around helplessly, waiting for somebody to tell them what was going on with Dad.

It didn’t get any better after they got a message from Mum. Dad was “still alive” it said. Still alive. It sounded like he was at Death’s door, and they were just sitting here like lumps in Sirius’s basement kitchen.

Merlin, what he wouldn’t give for Lee to be here right now, he thought as they all just sat and waited, watching the candle on the table sputter, and his throat abruptly ached and tears sprang to his eyes. To hell with them not having told anyone, Dad could be dying - could be dead right now for all they knew - and Dad had never known, would never know about him and Lee. Would die never knowing that his son was queer, which would be shocking to him, George was sure, but he had a feeling that Dad would be all right after a little while. Might even be comforting to talk to. Even just knowing that he _could_ talk to Dad, even if he never actually did.

But he’d never told Dad. Hadn’t even thought of telling him, until today, in his worry about telling Fred.

And why the hell hadn’t he told Fred, anyway? Eight weeks of holding a secret from his own twin - why? Because he was ashamed? Because he was confused? Because he didn’t want to feel like there was a huge difference between them?

Was that fair to Lee?

He got up to get some tea for everyone, giving himself head a small shake of disgust. What a bloody fucking stupid thing to be thinking about while Dad was lying in the hospital and for all they knew, might already be dead.

But then... this is what life might be like in the future, right? If things kept heating up politically, this might be what life turned into. Life or death situations, long nightime vigils, fear for the safety of their families. Mum might not be the only one with a Boggart that turned into dead family members.

But the rest of life didn’t stop happening just because they were in war.

Harry’s parents had gotten married and had a kid, when they were barely a few years older than George, which must have caused a lot of fireworks in both their families, and it had happened right in the middle of wartime, too. Mum had lost her brothers Fabian and Gideon - and had had to keep going, keep worrying about nappies and proper nutrition for her sons and feeding the chickens and life had gone on, whether she wanted it to or not.

He glanced around at all of them sitting around the dark table, Sirius, Harry, Fred, Ginny - all of them silent and sunk in their own thoughts as they waited for news of Dad.

This might be a way of life in the future. Both of their parents were in the Order, as were Bill and Charlie, Percy was a fucking traitor so he was safe but Ron was friends with Harry Bloody Potter and Ginny was only a kid but had already almost died once and if he and Fred and Lee went into the Order...

What would it be like, all of them fighting? All of their extensive family being in jeopardy, all the time? Not just dealing with Umbridge, the horrible old toad, and fearing expulsion, but actually fearing more, on a daily basis?

Fred’s head had lolled to the side and he was slipping into a doze. Sirius had suggested going to bed a while ago but that really wasn’t going to happen and he only suggested it once.

Lee, I wish you were here, George thought, putting his head down on the table. I wish you could hold me right now. Help me stop worrying for poor Dad. So mild-mannered and silly, but so brave.

Their dad, their barmy Dad, could be dying right now. Could be dead, for all they knew, and Mum might be trying to figure out right now how to tell them.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, wishing for sleep. Wishing for Lee. Wishing for Dad to be OK.

Everything else could wait. They just had to get through this night.

**3.**

**January 13**

George followed Lee and Fred through the small door behind the portrait of the Dancing Peach Princess and down the long, shadowy corridor, silently thanking Padfoot, Moony and Prongs for the Map whose knowledge they were still using. Thankful also that apparently Umbridge and her minions didn’t have anybody of that caliber to suss out hidden exits.

It felt like he’d aged about a year since the last day of term. So had Fred. They’d had a close look at what they were facing, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Being back at school, worrying about sneaking out of grounds... it sounded so much more innocent, childish, than anything they’d dealt with over the hols.

They silently exited into one of the more pleasant groves of the Forbidden Forest, where there was a willow that actually wept in summertime. The tears were a little disconcerting, but made quite a lovely, slightly sweet drink. Right now they were just icicles, though.

Fred cast a warming charm and sat down on a largish stump, and George glanced at Lee. Ostensibly they were here to talk about what had gone on over the hols, which for Fred and George had to do with Dad, and finding out Harry might be sort-of-possessed by You-Know-Who, and Percy being a giant arse and making Mum cry. Lee’s Christmas had been somewhat less exciting.

It also wasn’t a good feeling, though, knowing that they’d got Fred here under false pretenses.

Because they hadn’t managed to tell Fred over the hols, of course. They’d had one owl between them since they’d left, with the news that Dad was fine. George had added something innocuous like, “Looking forward to seeing you in the New Year. The three of us have a lot to catch up on.”

Fred glanced at them both. “All right, so why are we here?” George blinked. “I know, you said we should catch up on everything. What’s got you two looking like you’ve got something to tell me, instead of me and George having stuff to tell Lee?”

Lee cleared his throat. “Erm.” He carefully sat down on a rock and glanced at George helplessly. George waved a wand at a toadstool and made it swell to chair-size, then perched on it, wishing he could remember the many opening lines he’d thought out before coming here.

Fred nodded, his eyes grim. “So I was right.” He pressed his lips together. “I don't mind telling you I'm not chuffed at this keeping things from me.”

“Like you haven't kept things from me before,” Lee protested.

Fred narrowed his eyes at them both. “This is different and you know it,” he said. “So you two have been up to something, then.”

“Erm. Yeah,” said George.

“Well, out with it.”

George opened his mouth, then closed it.

“If you two were up to something, what was it you were doing that you couldn't do with me too?”

George stifled a hysterical giggle.

“What?!” said Fred angrily.

“Erm.”

Lee cleared his throat. “It's like this, mate. I'm gay.”

Fred raised his eyebrows. “That's _it?_ ” He glared at Lee. “And you trusted George with that, but not me? Why the hell not?” He stood up and slapped Lee upside the head. “You ought to know better!”

“Fred...” George trailed off.

“Right, so you've been angsting at my idiot brother-” Fred broke off and glared at him. “Oh please don't tell me any of that angst involved wondering what you were going to say to _me_ , because I swear--”

“He’s not the only one,” George broke in. “And we weren’t angsting. We were-” He broke off. “Erm.”

Fred waited half a second. “You were _what?!_ ”

“Snogging. We were snogging.”

Fred blinked. “With who?”

“Each other.”

Fred frowned. “What?”

“We’ve been snogging,” said George firmly. “We’re both gay, and we’ve been, erm...”

“Since when?”

“Right after the DA formed,” said George reluctantly.

Fred gaped at him. “ _You’re_... you’re queer?!”

George swallowed.

“And you didn’t fucking well _tell_ me?! Your own fucking _twin_?!”

George took a deep breath.

“You fucking wanker!” Fred shouted at him, taking a step toward his toadstool. “You complete shite!! I’m pissed off enough at _Lee_ but you - you ARSE!!” He swung at George, giving him a solid punch to the shoulder. “You stupid arsewipe! Why the _fuck_ didn’t you say anything??!!”

“I--”

“I mean I thought you were looking at Lee a little funny but you never _said_ anything!”

“You thought--”

“You’re fucking pathetic!” Fred raged, and he was livid, he really was. “I told myself, Fred, I think your twin’s a poofter who’s maybe googly-eyed over your best friend, and your best friend might be making eyes right back but No, Fred, said I, of _course_ not, that can’t be, no matter what it looks like, because _Lee_ might be a secretive bastard but _George_ wouldn’t keep quiet about something like that, now _would_ he?” He punched George again.

“Oi,” said Lee mildly.

“ _Don’t_ you say a bloody thing, Jordan!” Fred snapped at him. “You’ve been shagging my brother without even having the decency to let me know!”

“Oi, not shagging, mate,” Lee protested.

“Without even - what?”

“We’re not _shagging_ ,” said Lee. “And I think maybe you ought to ask yourself why George didn’t tell you. You might realise that maybe it’s not all about you, you arse. Maybe George was nervous.”

“Well then George is a fucking idiot,” Fred snapped. “And what do you mean, you haven’t shagged? You’ve been together for months and you’ve, what, played Exploding Snap?”

“We were just - you know, sorting things out!” George said helplessly. “It was... we were just--”

“Oh for God’s sake me and Angelina were just ‘sorting things out’ too last year but we didn’t let that stop us! We were shagging within a week! What’s the matter with you two?”

“Maybe we’re more romantic than you, ever think of that?”

“Romantic? Or dead below the waist? That’s pathetic! How much have you done?”

“Oi,” said George, abruptly realizing that his relief was mingled with impatience at himself for having worried at all. Of course Fred wouldn’t judge them or be disgusted. He wasn’t Umbridge. “I’m not going to go into detail! You didn’t go into detail over Angelina!”

“No, but maybe I should’ve, to give you some bloody pointers.”

George blinked.

“So who’s topping?”

Lee groaned. “Augh! Nobody! Fred!”

“I know nobody is _now_ , I'm asking who’s going to be taking it up the arse when you innocent not-yet-buggers finally get around to doing anything.”

“ _This_ is probably why we didn’t tell you anything,” muttered Lee.

“If you think I’m going to forgive either of you any time soon for not saying anything, you’d best think again,” said Fred. “Also, you’re going to have to tell the girls.” George and Lee looked at him blankly. “Angelina and Katie and Alicia.”

“What? Why?” asked Lee.

“They can help you keep this discreet,” said Fred. “You don’t want Umbridge to catch you snogging. Then again, it’s hilarious that she has all these rules about girls and boys not being within two feet of each other but has completely ignored the queer contingent.”

“We’re a contingent now?” said George.

“The queer one. Right. So we’ll tell Angelina and--”

“No wait--”

“Look, somebody obviously has to take the initiative here. You two are absolutely pathetic.” Fred frowned. “Though - are you particularly loud?”

“What? No!”

“Because when we live together - wait, hang on.” He glanced between them. “Are we going to live together?”

“What?”

Fred rolled his eyes. “That’s you’re favourite word isn’t it? Try ‘pardon’ just for variety. Are we all going to be living together? George and I have been looking for a place to start our business.” He glanced between them. “I'll say right now if it’s going to be the two of you living together, I get to keep the flat we scouted out in Diagon, George.”

George’s heart gave a thud. He and Fred had found that place together. They weren’t nearly ready to live apart yet - and somehow until this moment George had never really imagined they would. “No! No, we’re living there.”

“What about Lee?”

“What about him?”

Fred glanced at Lee. “You moving in with us, Jordan?”

Lee swallowed. “This is part of why we didn’t say anything, mate. We’re just figuring it out.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Well it’s a good thing you’re telling me now. Left to your own devices, you’ll never get a bloody thing done. Going to be in the old wizard’s home before you get your wands up.”

“Oi, wands are up, mate,” said Lee.

“Well that's something, at least. All right, we'll see how it goes and maybe think about installing soundproofing on your bedroom. Right, now let’s go to dinner and then get the girls. Wait - weren't we supposed to catch you up on what happened over the holidays? Never mind, George can tell you later, it wasn't that exciting, 'cept our Dad's all right.” Fred turned and started back to the castle.

George exchanged a sheepish smile with Lee as they followed Fred. Why had he been worried? All three of them against the world, with Fred leading the way. That was how they were. The way they were supposed to be. Why had he ever thought that would change?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, finally! This took _way_ too long to write, but was immensely helped by the Harry Potter marathon I attended just before Christmas :)

**1.**

**January 15**

“So where’s your beloved?” Alicia asked as George, Fred and Angelina stepped into the Common Room. George glanced around automatically but of course Alicia wouldn’t say something like that if there was any risk. Katie and Alicia were alone in the room and George could hear the faint buzzing of a White Noise Spell.

Fred snorted. “Well, you’ve read the newest Educational Decree, _Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach._ ’’

“Yeah?”

“And of course Umbridge is so busy looking over every other teacher’s shoulder that she spends half our class _not_ in class,” said Angelina. “So today these tossers were playing Exploding Snap when they were supposed to be studying.”

“Of course. And your beloved?” said Katie to George. “Exploded one in his own face?”

“No, it was all going very well,” said George, ignoring the mild blush that still warmed his face whenever Katie called Lee by that term. “Until Umbridge showed up and started to tell us off. My idiot beloved said ‘Exploding Snap’s got nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor! That’s not information related to your subject!’”

“So, detention, then,” said Katie, rolling her eyes impatiently.

“Dunno why I thought either of you would make the other any smarter,” said Angelina.

“Not a chance,” said Fred. “Love makes you stupid.”

“How would you know, you wanker?” said Angelina.

“You wound me!” Fred protested.

They settled down to study the homework Harry had given them at the DA - incantations to detect hidden Animagi - and George briefly marveled at how much his life had changed after they’d told the girls. He’d been hesitant about telling anyone else about him and Lee, but Fred, as usual, been right, though he’d never tell him.

It made such a difference, not always having to hide. He hadn’t realized how much their secrecy had weighed on him until it had eased.

“What are you going to do if you’re found out?” Katie asked.

“Found out... at the DA?” asked Fred.

“Wasn’t talking to you, Humongous Bighead,” she said. “Was talking to George. What if Umbridge finds out about you and Lee?”

“What would she do?” asked George. “She hasn’t made an Educational Decree against being queer.”

“Yet.”

“She would,” said Angelina.

“Mum and Dad would go spare,” said Fred absently, eyes still glued to the lines of the incantation.

“How d’you think your Mum and Dad would react if you told them?” asked Katie. “Would you tell them?”

“Dunno,” said George. “I haven’t really thought about it...”

“Being caught and expelled is _definitely_ not the way you’d want them to find out,” said Fred.

“You know we could help,” said Katie.

“You’d be beards for them?” asked Fred, putting down his book.

“Go Bludger your bollocks, Fred,” said George. “We’ve talked about this--”

“You know I told you they could help,” said Fred. “It’s part of why I wanted you to tell them.”

“Get stuffed,” said George. “I’m not dating anyone just for show. Not worth it.”

“No? What about Lee?” said Fred. “If he wants to be a big radio personality, there’s a lot of very conservative people in the wizarding world who would not be happy to listen to an acknowledged poofter.”

“How about you concentrate on being able to cast a detection spell that doesn’t disappear every part of you but your bright red hair?” said George, irritated.

Katie made a rude noise. “How about we talk about you and Lee some more?”

Fred chuckled. “Katie, does it ever worry you that you’re such a fag hag?”

“A what?”

“Muggle term.”

“I didn’t know Muggles had hags,” said Alicia. “Aren’t they under control by the Department of Magical Creatures, like werewolves?”

“Yeah but Muggles still know what they are,” said Angelina.

“And what’s a fag hag?”

“Girl who hangs around with men who only want other men,” said Fred.

“Seems pretty useless,” said Angelina. “Not a chance of getting any.”

“That’s only if they’re one hundred percent queer,” said Alicia, with an odd look in her eye. “Would you ever date a girl?” she asked George.

George blinked. “Uh. Lee probably wouldn’t approve.”

“I mean, if you weren’t with Lee. Have you ever found a girl attractive?”

George shrugged, a little uneasy. Alicia and Katie’s attention got a little weird sometimes. While he was glad neither one had rejected him and Lee, their questions were often a little more pointed than he was comfortable with, and that one time he’d kissed Lee in front of them - just a quick peck - they’d given a little whoop and looked very much like they wanted to ask him to use more tongue.

“Is that a no?” asked Katie.

George shrugged again. “I dunno. Yeah, I guess so. Sure.”

“Did you suspect that you were gay before Lee?”

“I... I guess I didn’t really think about it much.”

“But--”

“Alicia, enough,” said Angelina impatiently, and George shot her a grateful look. Fred, the twat, was sniggering. “Even a Weasley twin wants some privacy once in a while.”

Fred frowned. “Since when?”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “And in any case, I’d like to get back to work. We’re almost done the Animagus spells, but the vampire detection spells look baffling.”

“Right.”

They plunged back into it for almost two hours, as the rest of the common room’s occupants ebbed and flowed, until they were finally almost ready to call it a night. They’d figured out the vampire detection, Katie was a little shaky with detecting venoms but it was highly unlikely that she’d ever need that particular skill, Angelina was amazing at firing off Delusion spells, and they were reaching that semi-giddy state of knowledge overload where continuing was probably not going to do them any good. George yawned, gathering up his books and scrolls.

Lee stepped through the door, gingerly holding his left hand and walking slowly. The rest gave him absent waves, still focused on the last bits of studying, but George sat up, alarmed.

“What is it?”

Lee shook his head, his lips pressed together.

“Lee?” George said, and started to stand up. Lee shook his head and approached their table, still holding his left hand.

“That was a long one,” said Katie, putting the finishing touches on her notes about venoms.

“Mm, she had me sanding cauldrons by hand during my last detention,” muttered Alicia, who’d never gotten into trouble until this year, but just couldn’t manage to force herself to take her DADA homework seriously and had skipped a few assignments in favour of finishing her DA stuff.

“No cauldrons,” said Lee. George stared at him as the others continued to chatter, wrapping up their study session.

Lee glanced around the empty common room and bent down, face near George’s. He put a hand on George’s arm. “ _Don’t_ go mental on me, all right?” he said, his voice low.

“What? Why not?”

Lee showed George his hand.

“Merlin’s balls!” George exclaimed, grabbing it - carefully - and peering more closely at it.

“What is it, Lee?” Fred asked, and now everyone was looking at them.

Lee yanked his hand back. “It’s fine,” he said, his lips thin. “It’s bloody _fine_. None of any of your business.”

George’s stomach was roiling and there was a sour taste at the back of his throat. Holy Merlin, Lee...

“Lee, what the hell?” said Angelina.

“I told you not to go mental on me,” Lee said to George, angry.

George gulped. “Well I’m sorry if I can’t just - just--”

“What happened, Lee?” asked Angelina, and Lee stared at her, then sighed and held out his hand.

George looked away, sickened at the words sliced into Lee’s dark skin: _I will not be impertinent._

“Merlin,” said Angelina into the silence.

“Are you - did she _carve_ that onto you?” said Katie, her voice shaking.

“No. I did.” George whipped his head up, meeting Lee’s eyes. “She’s got this quill,” said Lee, his voice carefully neutral. “It looks like a regular pen, but it’s been spelled so that you don’t use ink. You use your own blood. The message writes itself into your skin.” He gazed down at his own hand dispassionately. “Had me write it ‘Until the message sank in,’ she said.”

“Oh God.” Angelina was shaken, her eyes filling with tears and George couldn’t tell if they were tears of sympathy or fury.

“We can’t let her get away with this,” said Fred.

Lee huffed a laugh. “We can’t, can we?” he said bitterly. “Pull the other one.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” said Fred. “This is - this is sick, it’s torture, it’s not--”

“Who are we going to tell, Fred?”

“The school’s Governors!” Fred exclaimed. “They can’t - they won’t let her--”

“The Governors?” Lee snorted. “You want _this_ to go before them? And d’you know what would happen to my mother’s business if she took a case against Minister Fudge’s darling to the Governors?”

“You’ve got to be joking,” said George.

“Umbridge pointed it out before I started to write,” said Lee flatly. “She said I was insubordinate and had ‘suspicious friendships’ - that would be you two, by the way - and if I went to anybody it would not look good for my ‘poor dear mother’, whose business isn’t doing well and who depends on Ministry contracts.”

“Rotten bitch,” Katie spat.

“But you can’t - what are you going to do?” said Fred. “Just keep bleeding on the floor and take it?”

“Not at all, mate. I’m going to deal with this. Apparently essence of Murtlap is very useful.”

“Told you that, did she?”

“No. I met Harry on the way back from detention.”

There was a short silence. George felt his stomach turn over.

“Bloody hell,” said Alicia, her voice low.

“God, that poor kid,” Angelina murmured, shaking her head. “And... that fucking _bitch_ ”

“He’s had so many detentions... Merlin.” Katie’s face was ashen.

“Right, then,” said Lee briskly. “You two have Murtlap among your ingredients, don’t you?”

George glanced at the girls as he and Fred followed Lee to their dorm, Alicia’s face like a thundercloud and Katie chewing on her lip. Angelina followed without a word.

They entered their own dorm, where Garett and Kenneth were reading.

“Piss off,” said Fred, and Kenneth frowned and opened his mouth.

“Seriously, don’t even start,” said George. Garett glanced at Angelina and looked like he might want to protest a girl in their dorm room, but then seemed to think better of it. He stood, signalled to Kenneth, and out they went.

Lee put his books down on his bed and took a deep breath, staring blankly at the floor. George put his arms around him, wishing he could do something, anything to transfer Lee’s pain and frustration to himself.

Fred slumped down onto his bed. “She has a quill that makes you cut yourself. She’s certifiable. This has gone beyond fun and games.”

“Think it’s been beyond fun and games for a while now, Fred,” George observed.

“Yeah and I’ve been telling you so all along, haven’t I?” said Fred bitterly. “Can I say I told you so?”

“You told me so,” George agreed.

Lee gently squeezed George, then moved out from the circle of his arms and went to their stash of potions supplies. He picked through the vials and pouches, looking for Murtlap.

“How long d’you think she’s been making Harry cut himself?” Angelina asked.

“Dunno, mate,” said Lee. “I asked; he wouldn’t answer. He just said it fades away the first few times, but eventually you get a scar.”

Angelina looked like she wanted to be ill. “Does he have one?”

“It says _I must not tell lies_.”

Fred made a noise in his throat. “We have to say something.”

“No,” said Lee, locating the Murtlap.

“Lee, this is bigger than your Mum--”

“Don’t start--”

“D’you think your parents would want you to put up with--”

“Don’t tell me what my parents would want me to put up with,” said Lee evenly. “For all I know my Mum might say it served me right for being a little snot.”

“Your Mum’s not an idiot.”

“No, but she’s not _your_ Mum either, now is she?”

“Lee, come on, don’t be a coward--”

“Shut up!” Lee scowled at Fred. “It’s not cowardice, it’s--”

“Fred--” George began.

“I don’t want to make my mother suffer!” said Lee. “Can you possibly understand that?”

Fred made a rude sound. “You don’t think our family’ll suffer if we get caught with any of the shit we do?” he said, raising his voice. “Our Dad works at--”

“ _Your_ family are all involved anyway, Fred!” Lee snapped. “My parents are just business people!”

Fred scowled at him. “Just because your parents aren’t brave enough to--”

“Don’t you dare call my parents cowards!” Lee shouted furiously, and George’s stomach churned as he and Angelina swivelled their heads between Lee and Fred.

“D’you think any of this is going to change after you’re out of school?” Fred challenged. “As long as you have family, you’re going to put them in danger if you step out of line!”

Lee’s chest heaved in anger and he glared at Fred. “You bastard, you--”

“Lee...” George said helplessly, and swallowed hard as they both turned to him. This was awful. Caught between the two of them, his twin and his lover, and this was nowhere he had ever wanted to be.

“Both of you, _stand down_ ,” Angelina’s hard voice cut the tense atmosphere like a knife. “And don’t you dare put George in the middle of this, because that would be a _really_ shitty thing to do.”

George felt a warm glow of gratitude in the deep silence that followed. Angelina was the best. Like Hermione was for Harry and Ron, she was their voice of reason and sanity and occasionally their social glue when the three of them got full of bullheaded obliviousness. And, just like Hermione, she’d probably hex him if he ever said anything like that to her.

It crossed her mind that if he and Lee ever wanted kids they’d need a mum for them and Angelina would be--

Bloody hell, George, focus.

Lee took a deep breath. “Fred, what do you think would happen if I said anything?” he asked more quietly. “What would happen to my schooling? To my chances of getting in with the Wireless? With my mum? Right now I’m just one impertinent kid who got under Umbridge’s skin. She’ll crush me if I say anything.”

“So you’re just going to let her?” Fred asked, more quietly.

“I’m going to write about it, when I get out,” said Lee. “And I’m going to write what Harry told me. Take evidence. I’m going to be a fucking reporter, and figure out how to get this story out there. But in my own time!”

“But--”

“I _am_ going to deal with this. And I’ll keep going to the DA, and we’ll keep making our plans. But I’m not going to be defying her openly, not any more.”

“I’m not going to stop,” said Fred.

“Nobody’s asking you to,” said Lee. “And if I know you - both of you - I’m sure you’re going to get even worse. Just make sure that if you get to know that beastly little quill of hers, you do some mighty observing. Tell me everything that happens, and I’ll record it all. I might even start talking to other kids who’ve had detentions.” Lee uncovered his hand and picked up the Murtlap, then stopped and gazed at his hand dispassionately for a moment. “You know... maybe I shouldn’t wipe this away. I can show it to the kids who’ve had that quill used on them. Use it to get their confidence.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” George asked.

“It’s useful,” said Lee, and put the Murtlap away.

“Like when you take a Bludger to the ribs,” said Angelina. “It’s for a greater purpose. Good on you, Jordan.” She smiled at him, and nodded briskly. “All right. You, lay off of him,” she said to Fred. “You, comfort your boyfriend,” she nodded to George, “And Lee, you _let him_ comfort you. Fred and I’ll leave.” She paused, then winked at them. “Or, if you’re not keen in privacy right now, we can go back to the common room and you can go snog in front of Alicia and Katie, make them feel better.”

Lee snorted and shook his head, and pulled George close as Angelina pulled Fred with her from the dorm.

**2.**

**April 4**

“If you’re going to do a Weasley, you’ve got to do him right, Lee,” Angelina was saying to Lee as George and Fred joined the group studying in a relatively secluded corner of the library. Lee was looking like he was wildly uncomfortable but trying to cover it, and Alicia and Katie avidly gleeful. “You’ll need candles, soft music, and flowers; they like that kind of thing--”

“Oi!” said Fred, suddenly catching on to what they were saying, a bright blush flooding his features. George reflected ruefully that any moment now he was going to look exactly the same.

“Really? Were you gentle with Fred?” Lee asked Angelina seriously.

George groaned. “I don’t want to know what brought this on, do I?” he asked. 

“We were asking Lee when he’s going to properly deflower you,” said Alicia, that disturbing gleam in her eyes again.

“Does it ever occur to you that you’re a little too interested in this?” asked Fred, and Alicia and Angelina had laughed.

“You all right?” asked Lee.

“Other than being a little tired and wishing our friends weren’t quite as pervy as they are?” said George. “Fine.”

“Your detentions are all done?”

“Finally, yeah,” said Fred. They’d gotten about a million detentions after asking some rather unwise questions in DADA class - turned out questioning whether the Ministry was actually able to control Dementors was “impertinent” - but they’d turned out to be nothing but cleaning cauldrons without magic. Time-consuming and unpleasant, but nothing to complain about.

No idea why Umbridge hadn’t taken out her little quill for them. Maybe the fact that Dad worked for the Ministry -- though if anything, Fred and George had thought that might make her more likely to set her quill on them. Get them to complain. Get Dad sacked.

“You’re all minty,” said Lee, coming closer and sniffing him.

“Shove off,” George laughed. “Wanker.”

“No, it’s all right,” said Lee. “I like mint.” He pulled George close and gave him a kiss, and George leaned into it, enjoying the closeness - until Katie whistled appreciatively.

Lee rolled his eyes and pulled. “You know, much as I appreciate the full support of our friends, this is getting tedious.” He stood up and took George’s hand.

“Where are you off to?” said Katie.

“I’m off to do a Weasley,” Lee tossed over his shoulder. “Cover for us.”

It was nice, having an enthusiastic band of friends, thought George as they headed into the stacks of the library and he felt the whisper of a Lookaway spell. He and Lee were now spending a fair bit of private time together, courtesy of their friends. Everyone was so stressed out, so tense and sad and depressed that it felt as though their gang had decided to fight the doldrums by pushing George and Lee together as often as possible. Thumb Umbridge’s nose at something. She could keep boys and girls apart, but she had no clue about Lee and George, and it was hysterical.

He pulled Lee close and they kissed, reconnecting, the blasted cauldrons he and Fred had spent days cleaning quickly leaving his consciousness in the pleasure of their caresses, the security of knowing that they could do this as long as they pleased and nobody would find them, nobody would even come looking for them. If anybody came close to these stacks, Alicia’s spell would ensure that they suddenly decided they needed a book on the other side of the library, without ever realizing they’d been misdirected.

They’d taken full advantage of their privacy often. Well... not _full_ advantage, maybe, but they’d definitely gone farther than snogging. Hands had wandered rather far lately. Fred had also given them some excruciatingly graphic advice about how to keep “certain stains” off their trousers and they’d ended up putting them to use a few times.

“You know,” said Lee as they broke apart, many pleasant minutes later. “They’ve got a point.”

“What point?” asked George, nuzzling the side of Lee’s neck.

“That we ought to do more.”

“Yeah?” a thrill went down George’s back. “What did you have in mind?”

“Snogging’s nice, don’t get me wrong. I just... I’d rather there was more action and less clothing.”

“When were you thinking?”

“No time like the present, George,” said Lee, nibbling on the side of his neck.

“What, here?” George said, his pulse quickening. “Right now?”

“I was thinking more like tonight.”

“How?”

Lee paused, then gave him a half-smile and cleared his throat. “That conversation you just walked in on?”

“Yeah?”

“Angelina was saying she and Katie could sleep in our beds so Garett and Kenneth don’t suspect anything. Angelina’s pretty good at her Delusion spells. And me and you could use the Room of Requirement.”

George blinked. “What about their own roommates?”

“They said they’ll make some excuse about working with Hermione on SPEW.”

“What’ll Hermione say?”

“She’s in on it. She’ll back them up.” George’s eyebrows went up. “Angelina said Hermione asked her about us.”

“Merlin. What did she say?”

Lee smiled ruefully. “Apparently something about, Do they even know they fancy each other or are they as blind as boys usually are about this sort of thing?”

George laughed. Lee’d gotten Hermione’s waspish voice down fairly well. Then he frowned. “Blimey. Do Harry and Ron know?”

Lee snorted. “Please. Harry and Ron don’t even know that Hermione fancies Ron.”

“It’s tragic, it is,” said George. “Even _we_ know that.” He took a deep breath. “So our girls, plus Hermione, are all plotting to give us time alone.” He held Lee’s gaze. “And you’d like to take them up on it.”

“We owe it to House morale, George,” said Lee.

George chuckled, and suddenly felt almost dizzy with anticipation. “Why not. Bloody hell, why not.” He kissed Lee, feeling a bubbling laugh in his chest.

Lee kissed him back passionately, then broke off and beamed at him, his eyes bright with amusement and desire. “Bloody hell, I’m going to do a Weasley.” He pulled him back and snogged him breathless.

And it was so easy after that, to go back to the girls and announce that they were taking them up on their plan. The shock on their faces was hilarious, as was the way Katie’s shock turned to avid interest. And then they were pretending to get ready for bed, chatting idly with Kenneth and Garett, and Fred was giving them a thumbs-up and whispering something absolutely filthy to Lee, and then Lee got up to go to the loo and Angelina came in - really if you knew it was her it was obvious, but Kenneth and Garett weren't exactly paying attention - and a few moments later George went too and they passed Katie and then they were hurrying to the Room of Requirement, and George stifled a hysterical giggle at the fact that here he was, pacing back and forth, thinking to himself, “I need a place where I can shag Lee’s brains out” - and then the door swung open.

Not bad. The Room had provided them with a wide bed with what George noticed out of the corner of his eye were somewhat garish red and gold covers, plenty of candles with a sort of a floral scent, a soft background of The Weird Sisters doing a cover of Celestina Warbeck’s A Cauldron of Love, and probably all sorts of other details that would’ve made for a very romantic atmosphere if they’d noticed a single one of them, but they were too busy, kissing for all they were worth, pulling their clothing off, getting as close as they could. Skin on skin. Mouths hungry for one another.

“Merlin, Lee,” George gasped once they were bare and pressed together on the bed and he didn't know just what he'd expected but it hadn't been this, because this was bloody _brilliant_ and there was no way he was daft enough to have just been patient enough to simply wait and be content with kissing and occasional frotting if he'd had any idea of what he was missing. He said as much, frantically in between kisses, and had to pause while Lee laughed at him.

"What? Stop laughing, you wanker," he muttered, pressing himself urgently against Lee. He was on fire, damn it, and his stupid boyfriend was stopping to have a giggle.

"Can't help it, mate," chuckled Lee. He took George's lips with his again and they thrust against each other, and then George reached down and grasped him.

"D'you want to... I dunno, do something with this?" he asked, suddenly unaccountably shy.

"Well that’s smooth,” said Lee, and propped himself up on an elbow. He cleared his throat. “Erm, I want to do quite a bit with this," said Lee, his Adam's apple bobbing. "But we haven't talked about who's going to do what to who and with which."

"Think you're going to put this inside me," said George impulsively, and grinned at Lee's nervous expression. "It'll be fine, mate, if Fred could figure out what to do with Angelina surely we can--"

"Dunno if you're aware of this but women come with slightly more accessible equipment. I don't want to hurt you--"

"Are you a wizard, or what?" asked George. "We're in a Room of Requirement. He turned to their bedside table. And lo and behold, wonder of wonders, lube. "Lets see: strawberry, vanilla, pumpkin and wormwort. Ugh. Since I'm the one getting this inside me, I'm going to go traditional and pick strawberry."

"Yeah I hear strawberry flavour is absolutely the traditional lube for first-time buggering," said Lee, rolling his eyes. "All the virginal queer wizards get this up their arses. I'm sure the Headmistress would agree."

"If you're going to mention that woman near bed, this may never get off the ground," George pointed out.

They didn't say much for the next few minutes, letting their lips and tongues and fingers do the talking for them, until finally George lay back, his entire body awake and eager and yearning.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding husky to his own ears. “Please.”

Lee bit his lip and covered him, and George tried to relax, but there was some fumbling and it was a little ridiculous - and then somehow both of them were laughing as Lee entered him. And it was everything he'd been hoping for. Somewhat uncomfortable, though not actually painful, and the feeling of closeness was unbelievable.

"Move," he said, and Lee obliged. It was a heady feeling, emotion and physical sensation and everything piled together, and he wanted to laugh out loud but could barely breathe, everything so taut and overwhelming-

And yet somehow so easy. So amazing, both of them moving together, reaching for completion together...

What the hell had they been waiting for? went through George’s mind randomly at some point. And then all extraneous thought went away as Lee cried out above him, and George felt his own climax sweep over him in a rush and cried out with him.

**3.**

**April 5**

“You know the girls will want full details,” said George a few hours later as they hurried down the dark hallways. His body was still almost humming, pleasantly worn out, a bit of discomfort here and there but mostly just a good all-over ache.

“Maybe I don’t want to give them full details,” said Lee. He pulled George close, kissing him, and George’s lips tingled. “I’ll help Katie with her Potions homework instead.”

“Not going to shag and tell?”

“Not a chance,” said Lee, and brushed his lips against George’s, and--

“Good morning, boys,” said Dumbledore.

George and Lee jumped, twisting around wildly. There was the old coot, smiling gently at them. George suddenly realized they were still holding each other, and dropped Lee’s arms as if they scalded him. How much had Dumbledore -- had he seen -- oh bollocks--

“And where are you two headed this fine morning?”

“Uh, back to - we were--” Lee’s legendary glibness appeared to have utterly deserted him, and George could not for the life of him think of an adequate story.

This was ridiculous. Dumbledore was no stranger to bending the rules. But this was different, this was...

“You didn’t spend the night in Gryffindor,” said Dumbledore.

“We weren’t doing anything wrong,” said Lee hastily.

Dumbledore’s eyebrows went up and his lips twitched.

“I mean, not against the rules,” George offered. “...other than the part about not being in the Tower.”

Dumbledore smiled again. “I’m well aware of your disregard for the rules, boys. The three of you seem to see them as suggestions only.”

“Fred - er, Fred wasn’t with us, because, erm--”

“I doubt your brother would’ve been welcome to participate with the two of you,” said Dumbledore. “Times may have changed since my youth but I’m under the impression that what you were up to is not generally something that lends itself to three participants. Particularly if two of them are related...”

George’s mouth dropped open.

“...though I suppose I shouldn’t presume to judge,” Dumbledore finished.

Lee cleared his throat and caught George’s eye, and George guessed from the heat in his face that he was about as red as he ever got.

“Gentlemen, at ease,” said Dumbledore. “I am not about to tell anybody what you’ve been up to.” He raised his eyebrows. “You do look as though you’ve just swallowed an earwax-flavoured Bernie Botts,” he remarked, and George wasn’t imagining it, the old coot was laughing at them, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

Lee gestured vaguely. “Sorry, sir. Didn’t expect somebody your age to, erm...”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned at my age, it’s that life is short, gentlemen. I commend you for your ability to live it to the fullest.” He paused. “Not all of us have been old all our lives,” he added gently. “Some of us do remember our own youth.”

George swallowed.

“This is also where I suppose I should tell you it gets better,” Dumbledore mused.

“Does it?” asked George faintly.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. “I suppose it depends on the choices you make. Well, good night, boys. Or rather, good morning.”

He walked off down the corridor, leaving George and Lee still gaping after him.

After a moment, Lee cleared his throat. “Did he just imply that he...”

“Oi, I don’t really want to imagine what Dumbledore got up to when he was a boy. Do you?”

They headed back to the dormitory in silence.

“He does have rather fabulous robes,” Lee pointed out as they neared Gryffindor Tower.

“Yeah, because that’s always a dead giveaway,” said George. Lee glanced at their own plain, threadbare robes and snorted, and they hurried back to their House, slipping through the empty common room.

“Wait - how do we get the girls out of our room?” asked George, a little put off that he hadn’t actually thought about it before this exact moment. Lee grinned at him and took out his DA Galleon with a flourish.

“Mischief managed,” he murmured, and the Galleon glowed. “Angelina and I worked this out. Hers is spelled to wake her up when I do that.”

“Clever.”

“That’s our girl.”

They waited a few moments and Lee pulled George close, lips brushing the top of his head and fingers of one hand going through his hair.

Bloody hell, that had been fantastic. They _had_ to find some way of doing that again. For a moment he seriously considered just coming out to Kenneth and Garett so they could shag in their own beds every night, with the curtains drawn -- but no, that was insane, the uneasy co-existence between them had only become more strained as the year went on, it would be...

He held Lee, breathing in deeply, reflecting that it was so strange to feel so incredibly connected to anyone who wasn’t Fred. It often felt like Lee was like an extension of him, in much the same way that Fred was, and it felt comfortable and mate-like - until it didn’t. Until they’d just sort of catch fire together, and his skin would itch to hold Lee closer and feel all of him, breathe him in, revel in him...

He rested his head on Lee’s shoulder, patiently waiting for Angelina and Katie, perfectly blissed out, not really thinking of anything until they heard a soft throat-clearing.

“Hem hem,” said Angelina, and Lee and George shook with laughter - there was really no way Angelina would ever be mistaken for that horrible toad. They looked up at her and Katie, standing at the door of the common room, smiling at them both.

“I was going to ask if it went well,” said Angelina, “but judging from your daft smiles I don’t think I have to. And I’d better get Katie back to her bed or she’ll ask you every detail.” She grabbed Katie’s sleeve and dragged her off to the girls’ dorms, Katie grinning at them over her shoulder and giving them an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

They slipped back into their own dorm. George lay down on his bed, not bothering to try to sleep - they’d cut it rather close, Garett and Kenneth were generally up fairly early - and it wasn’t even ten minutes before both were stirring.

He and Lee pretended to wake up, and the room was filled with the regular morning bustle of five boys getting ready for the day, Garett and Kenneth with brisk efficiency and George, Fred and Lee with a number of stops and starts, as they waited impatiently for their roommates to leave.

Finally Garett and Kenneth were off, heading for breakfast while the three of them hung back, ostensibly to make some observations over their latest Jelly Legs Potion.

“How did it go?” asked Fred, glancing over his results from the last test - they really did need to get over the oozing side effect.

“Fine,” said George.

“Think you may need to do it again, Lee,” said Fred, amused. “Fine? That’s all you have to say?”

Lee gave him a good-natured two-finger salute as he headed off for the bathroom. George started to change his shirt.

“You’re all right, right?” said Fred after a moment.

“Yeah?” said George, poking his head out of his shirt.

Fred smiled. “You’re dead gone over him.”

George swallowed. “Maybe.” He pulled the shirt down.

“And... where am I in all of this?”

“What?”

“We’re still moving out together after school, right?” said Fred, and he was waving his wand over the potion and sounding... uncertain.

“What?” George approached him. “Fred, we talked about this.”

“Yeah, months ago,” said Fred, not looking at him. “Before you’d shagged him.” He made a notation on his parchment.

“That changes everything, does it?” asked George.

“Dunno, mate,” said Fred. “You tell me.”

George stared at Fred for a moment, then cuffed him on the side of the head.

“Don’t be a twat,” he said firmly, and Fred grinned at him.

And it really didn’t change anything, he thought to himself during the day, even though there were a few moments when he couldn’t help but feel a bit of a thrill every time he thought of what they had done together the night before. They were both exhausted (“Utterly shagged out,” Fred kept saying, to the combined sniggers of the girls) but Merlin it had been worth it.

He’d almost fallen asleep in Herbology and had fallen asleep in History, but then, History was supposed to be for naps so that was all right. By the time they got to their DA meeting at the end of the day, he was feeling a second bout of energy - enough to pull Lee into an abandoned room right before the meeting, and kiss him thoroughly.

And then the lesson was about Patronuses - and he and Lee got theirs going right away.

Fred raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Wonder what you two are thinking about?” George elbowed him as he watched his baboon Patronus gambol about, teasing Lee’s mockingbird.

His heart felt like bursting. This was real joy, despite the hideous old bat who now practically ran their school, with her stupid rules and stupid Hem hem hemming. He turned to Fred, grinning widely as Fred finally got a corporeal form - another baboon! what a shock! - and beamed at it, laughing as it joined George and Lee’s Patronus forms.

Joy was something you could snatch out of nowhere, George thought as happiness vibrated through him, as he and his twin and his lover thumbed their noses at the old bitch, knowing she couldn’t do a bloody thing about any of it. She didn’t even know about what George and Lee had done, she didn’t know Fred and their friends had helped - just like she didn’t know about the DA.

...which was right when they found out that yes, the joyless old hag had somehow found out about the DA.

In the aftermath of Dobby the house elf’s shocking warning, as all of the DA tried to run and most of them succeeded, George found himself filled with both terror and reckless glee. It felt almost _good_ after so long hiding, to be about to be confronted. So what if they were kicked out. So what if they were _arrested_. They were done with this skulking about, being afraid of their own shadows.

“I’d say this makes eventual expulsion a little likelier, doesn’t it?” said Fred after the danger was over and all the Gryffindor members of the DA had made their way to their House except for Harry, amid reports of the Ministry arriving at the school and other alarming rumours. Fred, George and Lee had unceremoniously kicked Garett and Kenneth out of their dorm, and brought the girls in.

“What d’you mean?” asked Alicia.

“We decided after Lee’s hand that if we got kicked out, so be it,” said Fred. “And we weren’t going to fight particularly hard to stay. I’d say this makes it more of a certainty, wouldn’t you?”

“Mum’s going to do her nut if we get expelled,” George pointed out.

“We’d be gone already if you two weren’t having wild sex all over the school,” said Fred.

“They are not having wild sex all over the place,” Angelina said scornfully. “It took all of us working together for them to do more than snog, even once.”

“Details,” said Fred.

Lee took George’s hand in his. “It’s pretty inevitable, mate,” he said. “You’re going to leave. I know it. And you’re going to go with a bang, not a whimper.”

“Though speaking of banging and whimpering, are you sure you won’t want to come with us when we go?” asked Fred.

Lee laughed. “Will I _want_ to? Absolutely. Not going to, though, unless I’ve got no choice. You two are the chaos-makers; I’m the voice of the people.” He gave George a quick kiss. “I’ll join you when school’s over.” He took out a piece of parchment and looked around at the gathered group. “Now. The Ministry’s apparently here. I would not be surprised if Dumbledore got sacked. If there’s any justice in the world, McGonagall will be our new Headmistress--” a chorus of cynical snorts greeted this, “but we all know who’s going to be put in charge instead.” He grinned. “How can we make her tenure begin with the appropriate pomp and circumstance?”

**4.**

**April 6**

It was going to be brilliant, thought George at one point the next morning as he and Fred and Lee rushed through their final preparations. The fireworks were going to be a smashing success, the spells they’d put on them to counteract what Umbridge was likely to do to get rid of them were hysterical, and the only downside was that they were going to use up their entire stock.

It would bloody well be worth it, though, as they hurried down an empty hall to their first classes. Impulsively he grabbed Lee and gave him a resounding kiss, waving a two-fingered salute at Fred as Fred made a rude noise and muttered something about ‘randy bastards with no sense of decorum or timing,’ and he let go of Lee and grabbed his hand to continue on their way to Charms--

And stopped short at the sight of Graham Montague, a hulking Slytherin Chaser, standing at the door of the almost invariably empty third floor storage room.

Blast.

“What’s this?” Montague looked down at their linked hands and an incredulous sneer slipped over his face. “You two? Really?”

“What do you want, Montague?” said Fred.

“The Headmistress is going to be _very_ interested in this,” Montague crowed. “I’ve always thought you twins were completely unnatural.” He smirked. “I would’ve bet you were buggering each other, but this is almost as good.”

“Montague, stuff it,” said George, setting his jaw and clenching Lee’s hand tighter in his own.

“Actually, do you still bugger each other?” Montague asked, glancing from Fred to George. “Does Jordan go into a Weasley sandwich?”

“You’re thinking about this a lot, aren’t you?” said Lee.

“Don’t you start, Jordan,” Montague sneered. “I know you - you want to be a big famous star, you think you’ll go into radio work - well what wireless is going to hire you if you’re tossed out of school for morality crimes?”

“What are you on about?” said Lee. “There’s no decree against snogging a boy, you twat.”

“Not yet, but you can bet our Headmistress will get one up soon enough.”

“She’s already got boys and girls twelve inches apart at all times; what’s she going to do? Enforce a bubble around everyone?”

Montague ignored him. “And you’re a _pureblood_ , Weasley,” said Montague, scorn dripping from every pore and suddenly George remembered - Montague was one of those half-blood Slytherins who tried with all their might to pretend they were purebloods, but old Auntie Muriel had a mind like a steel trap and had once pointed out Montague’s embarrassing Muggle-born grandmother. “A pureblood, with no respect for your blood or your heritage--”

“Montague, leave off,” said George, shoving past him. Suddenly Montague was holding a wand on all three of them, and sadistic gleam in his eye.

“Not so fast. I’m taking points off you.”

“What _for_ , you stupid arse?”

“Sodomy and disgusting lack of morals. Filth and perversion.”

George felt his stomach turn at Montague’s filthy spittle-flecked lips, at the way he was glaring at them - and he suddenly dropped his gaze to Montague’s crotch.

Hang on. Was Montague maybe a little... interested?

He looked back at Montague and had to suppress a giggle. Poor bastard. With a small grin at Lee, he pulled him closer. “Go with it,” he whispered into Lee’s ear, and then nuzzled behind a dreadlock. “I’m sorry, Montague, what were you saying?” he drawled, then pressed a small kiss to Lee’s neck.

“Stop that!” sputtered Montague.

“Stop what?” Lee relaxed into George’s arms and pressed himself closer. He brushed his lips over George’s cheek, then smiled at Montague.

“What are you doing?!”

“Oi, mate, I know they don’t grow them bright in Slytherin but I think it’s pretty obvious,” said Fred, as Lee turned and caught George’s lips with his own.

“Stop that!” Now Montague’s voice was rising up a notch. George suppressed a snigger and kept snogging.

“Mm, don’t think they’re going to,” said Fred. “They’re animals. You should see - well I mean, obviously _you_ wouldn’t want to, but you should see what they’re like once they get going. We’ve tried to stop them, to no avail, I’m afraid. Once they start this they’re buggering within minutes. Pants down, against the wall, on the couch - Gryffindor Common Room’s a mighty uncomfortable place these days, I tell you--”

“They do it in _public_?!” Montague croaked, and George spared a glance at him from where he and Lee were groping each other - though _no_ , Fred, they weren’t about to bugger each other right now, ugh - and almost choked on his laughter. Montague was staring in horrified fascination, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his face beet-red.

He went back to Lee’s mouth, throwing caution to the wind and moaning appreciatively as Montague’s voice rose, and it was ridiculous, he and Lee were going to start laughing at any moment--

“Oi, Weasley, what the--” George broke off the kiss and turned to see Montague starting to levitate and scrambling for his wand. George grabbed his own wand - thank you, Harry, for suggesting easy access in case of attack - and flicked it at Montague.

“Expelliarmus!” he said, and caught Montague’s wand. Behind him, Lee was muttering a spell that opened the door of an ugly cabinet right behind Montague.

“You disgusting poofters, I’ll take points off all of you, that’s fifty from you, W--” and then Fred flicked his wand and Montague turned upside down, and George swished his own and sent him sailing into the cabinet. Lee slammed the door shut and Fred grinned.

“Don’t think he’ll be able to get out of there, do you?”

“Not without his wand,” said George, snapping it in half and sending it sailing into a rubbish bin in the hallway.

There was thumping from the cabinet, then silence. Fred frowned. “Hang on...” he opened the door. The cabinet was empty. “Lee, you beautiful bastard.”

“What?” said George.

“This is a Vanishing Cabinet,” said Fred.

Lee peered at it more closely. “Fuck me, so it is.”

George laughed. “So he could be... anywhere, then? London, Tottenham...”

“Outer Mongolia for all we know,” said Lee with savage pleasure. “And no wand.”

“So when he gets back he’ll have more on his mind than taking off points - or telling the world about you two,” said Fred.

“Vanishing Cabinets are supposed to be hellishly confusing if you don’t know you’re going into one of them,” said Lee. “He’ll have trouble remembering his own name for a day or so. If he remembers we pushed him in, we’ll just say we didn’t know it was a Vanishing Cabinet and were trying to get away with sneaking around.”

“We’ll get in trouble.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” said Lee. “That bastard was going to expose us, just for jollies.”

They headed back to their House, and George tried and failed to worry about Montague’s fate. He deserved whatever the hell happened to him. That vindictive, hateful sneer, the way he’d gleefully wanted to destroy Lee...

He grabbed Lee’s hand a little harder. This was no time to think about Montague. This was time to think about their upcoming debut, and - if they weren’t caught and expelled right away - the reign of terror they were going to subject Umbridge to until they were.

It was going to be brilliant.

**5.**

**May 4**

“Well, that’s that,” said Fred, putting down the last of the whiz-bangs.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” said Angelina. “You arses.”

“Oi, don’t insult genius,” said Fred. “And don’t make us sorry we told you.”

Angelina rolled her eyes. Days after Ginny had asked them for help, they’d decided to bring her into the plan. Lee had to stay back, of course, but they needed more than just him for some of what they were planning, and Angelina had always been a good sport.

“You’re geniuses, never said you weren’t,” Angelina shot back. “Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a pair of wankers.”

George grinned at her tiredly. They’d worked overtime to get ready fast enough to help Harry, but they were going out with a hell of a bang. The swamp was nothing but a tiny portable puddle, but they’d tested it several times and it should expand to a respectable size. Might even need a boat to get from one side to the other. The fireworks were even more spectacular than the ones that had greeted Umbridge’s Headmistresship. There were some lovely stinkbombs, too.

This was it. This was really it. They would never be able to get away with this. And so close to the end of the year, too.

To be fair, they’d stayed a lot longer than they’d thought when Umbridge first came to power, expecting expulsion at any moment and getting more and more reckless, though they’d taken time off during the Easter holiday. But what they were going to do today... this would be the end, surely.

It would be worth, it though. Except for leaving Lee behind.

“You know the girls are going to hate you for not telling them,” said Angelina.

“Katie and Alicia don’t need to get into even more trouble,” said Fred.

“And your place is ready?”

“We’re flying straight from here to the new premises. It’s fully stocked, the lease is signed...”

“Lee’s room is waiting for him when he finally gets out of here,” said George.

“Your Mum’s going to go spare,” said Angelina.

Fred shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

George drew Lee away as Angelina continued to berate Fred. They were leaving, they were really leaving, and the next time he saw Lee they wouldn’t be fellow students any more.

He kissed Lee. “Just so you know, I’m telling Dad about us. After he’s done being apoplectic that we’ve cut off our education.”

“You sure?” said Lee.

“He’ll understand. Mum might take a little longer.”

Lee swallowed and looked away.

“You know I’m not pushing you to tell your folks, right?” asked George. Lee wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m really not. You decide what you want to do, and when. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Lee looked down. “I feel like a bloody coward, is all. Keep wondering where my Inner Gryffindor’s gone, and--”

“Your parents aren’t like ours,” said George. “Besides, I don’t care who knows what. It’s the three of us together forever and as long as we know that, I’m all right.”

“What if we decide being a radio personality or a business owner you really can’t be open in the wizarding world?” Lee asked quietly. “We’re up against a lot of tradition. You can’t even - did you know that you can’t even have father’s rights if you’re not married to the mother of your child? George, what if this is as good as it gets?”

George gave him a wry grin. “So we’re talking marriage and children now?” He squeezed Lee’s arm. “So what? Even if we have to marry other people for official purposes, maybe we can marry very open-minded witches, I don’t care. I’ll take it. And who knows, some day things might be different.”

“If I’m around, someday is going to come a lot faster, I’ll tell you that much,” said Fred. “Nobody’s putting my brother in a bloody closet for life.”

“Leave off, Fred,” said Angelina. “And remember, no pulling George between you. Because that’s not on.” She looked at their fireworks, their swamp, all the things they’d planned, and gave them a grin. “This is going to be brilliant.”

Brilliant, yeah. Him and Fred, flying out in a blaze of glory.

Leaving Lee behind.

When had the main focus of his thoughts gone from Fred to Lee?

Lee pulled him close and held him for a long moment. George closed his eyes, breathing in his scent, his warmth.

Lee rubbed George’s cheek lightly with his own. “You should know that I hate you a lot right now,” he murmured, his voice a little unsteady, then let go of him and stepped back. “Both of you. Abandoning bastards.”

“Come with us,” said George, one last time.

Lee shook his head. “No. It’s going to be awful here without you, but I’ll send you dirty limericks.”

“I’ll open them,” said Fred.

Lee rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you will. Now, you’re sure your brooms will respond to an Accio?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Angelina. “If they don’t, they can take mine and Katie’s. I’ll square it with her; she won’t mind.”

They both looked at Lee, and reached out for him at the same time, enveloping him in a three-person hug - and then Fred reached out for Angelina and all four of them held each other tightly, friendship and loyalty and love giving them all strength and bloody hell, George thought, with this kind of power, they were invincible, the lot of them.

Finally Fred chuckled and loosened his grip on them and it was like a signal, pulling them all back to themselves.

George gave Lee one last squeeze and stepped back.

“All right,” said Fred. “Ready George?”

He nodded. “Ready, Fred.”

This was it. Time to leave Hogwarts with a bang, not a whimper.

**Epilogue**

**May 10**

(Unsigned owl delivered to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Number 93 Diagon Alley)

_Well, I was right, mates. It’s dismal here without you two. I’m not sorry I decided to stay back, but I must say it’s not the same school without you. I can’t even get up the spirit to turn this owl into a dirty limerick._

_It’s worth it to be here, though. I’m personally depressed and sexually frustrated, but professionally thrilled. The stories of courage and rebellion and general derring-do at this school are priceless and more than I could have imagined on my own. I’m gathering information and making connections like a fiend._

_You should know that your little escapade made quite an impression. The student body now calls it “doing a Weasley.” I suspect our female friends of putting that out into the general vernacular just to frustrate me._

_It’s just a few more weeks, though. I’ll be with you two soon. And you’ll pardon me, Fred, but you’ll have to spend the first few hours of my arrival at a friend’s house, as my priority is simple: I’m going to do a Weasley of my own._

_I love you. See you soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. Hope you liked it, Daf9!


End file.
